Fallout: Twin Graves
by Symmetrymaster
Summary: While the legendary tale of courier 6 plays out in the background two escaped convicts maraud their way across the Mojave Wasteland. Much to the chagrin of the many factions.
1. Chapter 1

Midnight in the Mojave...lovely and lonely time. That different world were you can poke your head out of your shack or hovel and stare and that nice bright full moon over your head. Or maybe the brilliant and simultaneously distant lights of Vegas. Or in this case...the barrel of a 9mm pointed at your head. That is what the one and only courier 6 thought in the fleeting seconds before they met their destiny at the hands of Benny. But this is not the the couriers's story. This isn't even when this should begin. Lets role back the clock an hour and a half just to get this right.  
Several Great Khans and a man in a checkered suit sat scattered around the Prospectors Saloon. Benny and Jessup were at a table conversing quietly. The other khans were quickly getting both louder and more drunk by the minute. Except for one. Then again she wasn't a great khan. Nor was her name Emilia even though that was what she went by. Emilia the khan had walked out of Red Rock canyon a week before going to deliver a suitcase full of psycho. The person wearing her cloths had ran across her, and after figuring what was in the case had promptly killed her. This person then took the dead khan's cloths and wandered over to Westside were she sold the chems for a significantly lower price then the Khans had intended. It didn't matter, she was 2,000 caps richer for it. She by the way went by the name Svetlana when she wasn't wearing the identity of a person she had recently murdered (this tended to be a semi-regular thing). Svetlana wondering how far Great Khan hospitality went then walked her way back to Red Rock without thinking to much about the consequences of doing that. She showed up at Red Rock several days later then spent a day and a night wandering around the encampment as well as buying a hunting shotgun from their armory with her caps. When people started looking for Emilia Svetlana knew it was time to go. She noticed a group of Khans leaving the canyon at that time, so she quietly walked up to them and folded herself into their ranks (with no complaints from the others). Now she was here. The road to this little shithole town in the middle of nowhere had been plagued with violence. Some crazy khan had blundered them all into a fight with a pack of fiends. Not that Svet minded terribly. She enjoyed the sport of killing some tribals, not that they put up much of a fight. Not to mention that most of the accompanying Khans had died. If she was getting payed for this then she imagined that she would get a larger share now. So she waited. Waited at the dirty bar, waited while drinking two hundred year old beer. Giving a considerable amount of thought as to why this man...Benny had laid out this whole assault just for one person. Just a courier with the Mojave express. There was to much...certainty. She knew to much, and there was also the glaring fact that this was just to easy. It was just one man...one rich prick from Vegas who was alone. No way to slip away after the job was done. Svetlana mulled about this more than anyone else, and thus that was why she was sitting alone at the bar while everyone else was by the jukebox. In fact that was why she hadn't really talked with or gotten to know anyone since she had quietly slipped in with these people. Not that some of them...Benny included hadn't tried to hook up with her, with varying degrees of failure. The cloths she had snagged off of Emilia were made for a much shorter person then her. After all Svetlana was a towering six foot five, while the dead khan barely managed to reach five foot seven. The cloths were revealing enough to distract people from her features. Such as pale skin,unnaturally black hair, an impassive face that always looked like it was ready for a scowl, and of course her trademark eyes. They were a red shade of amber. They seemed like the color of coagulated blood, and gave of the (rather right) impression that this was not a creature you could reach out and touch without expecting to loose a limb in the process. Whatever happened next she decided she would not run or slink off. Svetlana would see this thorough. And if any more Khans ended up dead then she would trade cloths with them the moment she got the chance. Or...she could take the nice looking duster off of the odd looking stranger that just slipped into the saloon.  
It has been a long couple of weeks. The not particularly mysterious stranger had escaped into the Mojave after busting out of the NCR correctional facility with the other convicts. He had been shipped there all the way from California. More specifically the Hub. He had attempted to sell a large cache of jet that he had "appropriated" with some difficulty from New Reno. Someone had ratted him out, and now the stranger...a man who went by the name James had been slapped with a 50 year sentence. After being marched and dragged all the way to the frontier James had been forced to help build the NCR's railroad. All the while sadistic inmates and cruel guards had taken hits at him. Finally when the riot happened James knew well enough to slip away instead of joining up with the now infamous "Powder Gangers". Of all the crappy bits of bad luck James had been through, one thing had worked out. A new officer shipped out to help keep the inmates in line while they worked outside the prison had taken the expensive weapons and duster that James had had on his person during his arrest. Both of them had been transported to the same place. And only one walked out alive with their cloths and guns. James was never a wanderer, and he never strove to be. He was a city boy. With golden blonde hair, and happy looking blue eyes he looked the part of a well to do, naive merchant. Of course that just hid the fact that he was a cutthroat chem dealer (in the literal sense). Now though his duster that was only supposed to make him look well traveled was...well...traveled. His hair had turned browner from all the time in the sun, and he had grown quite a bit of stubble on that face on his. His eyes were still bright but he had dropped the happy act he put them through. They held some happy energy, but the cruelty that was usually behind them was more obvious then usual. James had walked through the wasteland looking like a wanderer with his very wide brimmed black hat, and his telltale duster. Honestly though he felt he was going to die of thirst. He had just about given up when he saw the lights of Goodsprings ahead of him. He took off toward the town like it was the gates of heaven. And before he sprinting into the saloon like an idiot, he calmed himself down, dusted himself off and sauntered in without even encoring the attention of Easy Pete who seemed to live by the door to that saloon. It was nice to feel some cool air coming down from a lazy half broken fan overhead. And he noticed to some delight that this place had enough people packed into it to make it feel safe. What really go Jame's attention though...was the great khan with the body of an amazon staring directly at him. And for the first time since getting his cloths back James smiled.

 **Alright I admit I could have written more, but I lost my patience and gave you this opening scene instead. I have written several Fallout stories now. Most of them pretty much the same. I'll see how far I actually take myself with this one. Any comments or criticism are welcome (even though I know no one will really lend any).**


	2. Chapter 2: Two Attractive Scumbags

Without even looking around the calm saloon James walked over to the bar and sat down two stools away from Svetlana. He had to admit a great khan looking stripper was something he had to...investigate, but right now he just wanted some water...or beer...yeah beer's good. Trudy as if reading his mind dropped a bottle of purified water on the bar in front of James.

"This one's on the house...looks like you could use it anyway." She said casually.

James not wanting to look to famished uncapped the bottle and sipped it. Svetlana watching James drink realized that the bottle of beer she was drinking seemed to be empty.

"Hey...hey! I'm empty mind grabbing me another one!" Svet whined. She had had several of these now and her deep musings about the job she was currently on were being replaced by slow wandering thoughts in an inebriated head. Trudy true to her nature did not turn around immediately when Svetlana called. This woman had slugged down seven bottles, without paying, and regardless of what many lowlifes seemed to think the Prospector Saloon was not a soup kitchen. Trudy glanced around and stated:

"If you want another one then I suggest you pay for the seven you already drank, I can hear those caps jingling in your pockets."

Svetlana true to her nature said nothing, instead she just scowled back at Trudy. Trudy half tempted to respond to that stopped herself when she heard the sound of a table being knocked over by to fighting khans. Cursing under her breath she took off towards that sound leaving the counter unmanned. Svetlana suddenly finding herself "alone" took her beer bottle, reached over the counter and knocked the radio on the counter over. It hit the ground, and the gravely charming voice of Mr. New Vegas suddenly cut off. James noticing this didn't say a word he just stared at Svet while he finally lost his composure and gulped down the water surprisingly fast. Svet caught his gaze and looked over at him.

"What are you staring at stranger?" She asked in her usual monotone.

James realizing that she actually was looking at him casually answered: "Just staring at that killer swing you got there."

Svetlana looked at him again. She noticed the duster he had on. Black leather, large enough to cover her frame, plenty of pockets. If she could just lure this drifter outside then...

"Hey...my eyes are up here." James said suddenly cutting off her train of thought. He was smiling though. A good, casual, non concerned looking smile. One that Svet mistook as one of playful innocence.

"Just admiring that duster you have on. It really...works with you"

"Thanks" James said in a neutral voice. In his (extremely incorrect) opinion this drunk chick did not look that dangerous. Nor did she look particularly bright. She did have a very large pocket though. Seemingly bulging with caps. He was sure that if he could lure this dumb looking khan outside then he could take those caps and hide the body behind the saloon. So they chatted. Both of them doing their best impression of normal conversation. Both of them waiting for the right moment to pop the question...if they wanted to go outside. This lasted roughly an hour. In which time Svet's head had cleared up. Both of them still had not posed the question yet. Not enough people had left the saloon. It was late, but there seemed to be an unusually large crowd that night. It was Benny who broke up this gathering.  
Without much warning he simply stood up and tilted his head toward the door. The Khans understood that it was time, and they all quietly began to get up and move out. Svet saw this and realized that her new coat was likely going to have to stay on this dirty looking drifter...for now. She had gotten up and began to walk out when James stood up as well. He bumped into her and apologized before looking at the other Khans leaving.

"Where are you guys heading?" James posed without much subtlety.

"To a meeting" Svet said dismissively.

She flashed him a smile "Just stay put and I'll come right back for you"

James gave her a bit of an uncertain smile then watched as she left with the others. A minute after she walked out the door James pulled the fat leather pouch he had snagged from her out of his pocket. Pickpocketing James mused to himself, was such a underappreciated skill. He unzipped the pouch and counted around eight hundred caps inside. With a smile he closed the bag. Turning up he saw Trudy staring at him with a (as usual) neutral expression. James just stared back then emptied 75 caps out and placed them on the counter.

"Well at least someone payed their tab" she muttered before scooping up the caps and placing them in the register.

James tipped his hat at her, then walked out through the back door.

Svetlana and the others set themselves up on the side of the Jean's Skydiving. Benny knew that a lone courier with the Mojave Express was going to come through here eventually. Now actually, if things went according to plan. But so far no one had shown up. Svetlana was slightly disappointed to hear that the courier needed to be taken alive. Not because she was in the mood to kill, but again because this job was getting more and more complicated. And complicated jobs tended to be dangerous and bad paying things. Now she was waiting on some wasteland road in the middle of the night, and the courier who Benny had repeatedly said would be here at this exact time was nowhere to be seen. Jessup and Benny were starting to argue in hushed tones when Svet heard a faint noise far off from the road. She had always had good perception and thus could differentiate random wasteland noises from muffled footsteps. She jerked her head around and saw a silhouetted figure creeping quickly across the hills across from the road. Svet realized in a flash that the courier had seen them and was trying to make a run for Goodsprings. Without a word she took off in a dead sprint towards the silhouetted courier. Benny and the others were to confused by what she was doing to speak, but the courier immediately glanced behind them and saw the tall Khan rapidly closing in on her. The courier forgot trying to sneak and instead began to sprint for the town. Svet lunged ahead as fast as she could trying to catch up. It was close, the courier made it between the rows of houses, down the moonlit road. The Prospector Saloon was just across the road from her. Just as the courier made it to that point she felt a strong grip grab a clump of her hair and jerk her backwards. She was yanked backwards slamming onto the ground. Before she could react she watched as if in slow motion a large boot raise itself over head then stomp her lights out.

* * *

OK first off sorry for taking so long. Second sorry if this feels a little incomplete...I couldn't delay this any longer. Remember any reviews and advice are appreciated. Anything I need to work on...or anything you think I did right just let me know.

Oh and a special thanks to that one reader in the U.S. and the other two in Canada who apparently still checked out this story as of today...whoever you people are.


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